I Have to Know
by TheAngryGM
Summary: There are many stories of haunted games, but what happens when the game is haunting you? A Sonic the Hedgehog (2006) horror story.


Chapter 1: Fight or Flight

It started on YouTube.

A modestly popular Lets Player had gotten a hold of Sonic the Hedgehog, the 2006 release. The game was legendary for being one of the worst video games of the modern era. And the YouTuber (let's call him SB) was skeptical. After all, if you've been a gamer for a long time, you've heard the phrase "worst game EVAR" a lot. I mean, when I was a kid, I actually owned E.T. for the Atari 2600. So, I've seen a lot of "worst games evar." And SB is a member of my generation. Point is, he decided to do a Livestream to see just how bad the game really was. Because it couldn't possibly be the "worst game evar."

It was awful. It was hilarious. It was terrible. He played for about two hours, joking with some guest commentators, and the game got progressively worse. And I was transfixed. Because, the thing was, the game was glitchy as hell, the story was laughable, and I had heard better voice acting in elementary school productions of Seussical: The Musical. And I had to play it. When it was done, I shook my head in awe, closed the window and went to bed.

A few days later, I found myself in a local Gamestop and there was a copy of Sonic (2006) for sale for six bucks. I wasn't looking for it, mind you. The Livestream had been and gone in my mind. I just happened to notice it. You know that weird way where you think you see movement out of the corner of your eye, but it's just an odd reflection and then your eye falls on something. That was all. Just huh? Glance. Oh, Sonic (2006).

It had the original PS3 case, but the plastic was wrinkled and veined, bunched up. Aged. Underneath, though, the colors were bright. Sonic determinedly running out of the frame. I'd never noticed that Sonic had green eyes before. But then, the last time I had seen Sonic for myself, he was in sixteen glorious bits and 64 colors. He was so determined. Running toward something. Or away. "He's trying to run out of the terrible game," I laughed to myself. And then I noticed, for the first time, that Sonic doesn't have two eyes. He has one big, connected eye and his eyebrows sort of pinch off the middle. That was sort of...

"Do you need help?" the neckbearded Gamestop employee asked suddenly. He was looking at me oddly. I noticed the stink of day old sweat. Why is hygiene such a foreign concept to some people? I hate these people giving all gamers a bad name!

I didn't answer right away. So he asked again. And I realized I'd been staring at the cover of Sonic (2006) for a long time. I don't know how long, honestly. Long enough to get noticed. He saw what I had in my hand.

"You don't want that game," he remarked, and something in his condescending, know-it-all tone and his stink and his scraggly facial hair suddenly pissed me off. I looked down at Sonic's grim determination. He was running toward something. Or away from something. Fight or flight. And I was sick of it. Yeah, I get it. I'm in my thirties. I'm almost in my forties. I'm tired of being treated like an old geezer every time I walk in to pick up a video game. Yeah, I buy a lot of odd games, old and new. I buy hardcore games and cutesy games. I love games. I'm intrigued by games. And who was this foul-smelling neckbeard to question my judgment? I beat the goddamned Turbo Tunnel in Battletoads before this mouth-breathing slacker was even a zygote. And I beat Dark Souls. Without summoning anyone. Not even damned Hell, I played Demon Souls before Dark Souls came out and everyone suddenly claimed to have played Demon Souls in the standard way of video game hipsters. The same asshats who claim they used to read the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comics and that's why Michael Bay is a travesty.

I was still looking at Sonic. My eyes narrowed. Fight. Or flight.

"Seriously," the neckbeard drawled, his breath reaking of half digested onions, "it's bad. It's really bad. You don't understand." And I looked at him. And he took a step back. I don't know what he saw in my eyes. But he backed away.

Fight.

"Yes, I do." I snarled, though I kept myself from adding anything about breath minds and deodorant.

If only I'd heeded his warning.

But the game already had me. I just didn't realize it.


End file.
